...and the finale:
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Ep 19-Tipping the Scales
“I think I’ll try to kill you right where DeCallo died…” Dirk said as he slowly stepped forward, “It seems most appropriate.” The hum intensified, Mordokai’s teeth were actually buzzing in his head. “You two were so alike, truly two sides of the same coin.”
Mordokai wasn’t listening. The longer Dirk talked, the more time Mordokai had to steel himself, to look for weaknesses. He had to find something to exploit, because if the tales he had heard about the Others and their abilities were true then Mordokai was going to need everything he had to survive this.
“My guard is down, Mordokai. Why not strike?”
The words jarred Mordokai. Dirk’s entire left side was open to attack, a skilled swordsman could have ended this fight before it even started with a single blow. It had to be a trick, no trained fighter would leave themselves so open, but Dirk made no move to close the gap in his defense.
“Come now, make your attack.” Dirk’s voice was mocking him. “Revenge is just a single swing away…”
Mordokai assumed a defensive stance: sword pointed downwards at an angle, the Iron Door. He would not be lured in by Dirk’s false carelessness.
Dirk smiled slightly. “If that’s the way you want it.” That snake-like grace Mordokai had observed in Dirk’s walk manifested fully in his attack. The man moved like lightning. Mordokai barely had time to bring his sword up, just barely keeping Dirk’s sword from taking his head. The force of the blow sent a shock up Mordokai’s arms, shaking them to the bone. “You won’t find me as easy to defeat as DeCallo was…”
Mordokai’s shoulder twinged at that. It was the one positive thing he had to say about the late bard, the boy had known how to fight. Mordokai pushed back and managed to escape Dirk’s reach, reassuming the Iron Door. Dirk’s stance never changed, his left side was still wide open.
Dirk lashed out again. A flurry of slices and cuts: head, arms, legs, torso. Each one coming at Mordokai with a speed that he had never seen. He managed to parry or block them all. Each blow struck his blade like a hammer. By the end of it, Mordokai’s arms were tingling from the shock.
“Your guard is dropping Mordokai…”
The words warned him, but not quickly enough. Dirk’s blade raked across his left side, just enough to cut into the skin and bring forth blood. Mordokai gritted his teeth and brought his blade around in a counterstrike: a diagonal cut, right to left. Dirk deflected it effortlessly, sending Mordokai off-balance. He stumbled forward a single step.
“Too slow, Mordokai…”
Another small cut across Mordokai’s back. Dirk was tormenting him, that much was plain. Both times he could’ve easily killed Mordokai, but instead he’d only chosen to draw blood. He was playing with Mordokai. Mordokai spun around, sword at the ready. Dirk was again mocking him with that opening.
“Take the opportunity, Mordokai. Drive the sword into my side…just like you did DeCallo…”
No, he wouldn’t. It was a trick, Mordokai knew it. He again assumed the Iron Door stance. Dirk let out a long-suffering sigh.
“Such a fool.”
Quicker than Mordokai could blink, Dirk let loose with an overhead slash. Mordokai brought his blade up to parry the attack, but the power behind it was too much. He stopped the blow just shy of his own head, but the shock jarred his arms and shoulders, weakening his defense. With a single push, he pushed Dirk’s blade away from his body, but his sword slipped from numbed hands as he did so. The sword skittered across the stone floor, this time it was well out of his reach.
Dirk circled Mordokai like a cat. “So foolish, so brash, you’ve no idea what you’re doing, do you?” Mordokai’s eyes never left Dirk. He was constantly moving to keep Dirk in front of him, waiting for Dirk to strike. He’d only get one chance at this. Mordokai fingered the knife, Mi’ir’s knife, sheathed at his back…
Dirk laughed. “Sir Mordokai, always dependable, always predictable…” He drew the sword back slowly. “Now you see what the Heraldic Order gets you.”
Mordokai gripped the knife.
“You’ve performed your part admirably. Now die, like you should’ve done four years ago.” Dirk lunged forward, stabbing towards Mordokai’s heart like a bolt of lightning. Mordokai had a split second to react. He brought DeCallo’s knife out from its sheath and side-stepped. Dirk’s stance brought his stab high, almost too high, his left flank was open. Mordokai ducked low, to dodge Dirk’s blade, and brought the knife inwards, towards Dirk’s side. Towards the space between the hipbone and the ribcage.
Dirk’s blade went by Mordokai’s shoulder, just barely. The blade traced along his shoulder, drawing a crimson red line from front to back. But Mordokai made a solid hit. Mi’ir’s knife cut deep into Dirk’s flank, slashing through muscle and laying open flesh. Dirk let out a pained grunt as Mordokai stepped past. Mordokai pivoted on his foot, turning to face Dirk and deliver another blow, but Dirk was no longer standing.
Dirk lay against the pillar, bleeding from his side. He did not move, did not speak, only stared at Mordokai, venom plain to see in his eyes. Slowly, Mordokai stalked over and picked up his sword. “I’ve waited for this.” Dirk didn’t respond. He tried to pick up his sword, but Mordokai rushed over and kicked it away. “No,” he said coldly, “You won’t rob me of this.”
“Then end this,” Dirk hissed.
Mordokai flashed back to four years before, in this very place.
“End it, paladin, grant me the oblivion I seek…”
He had been unsure then, unsure of what to do. But now, this time, with his enemy at his mercy, he felt no need to hesitate. There was no debate. This was what he wanted: revenge. Bloody, cold revenge. He planted his foot in Dirk’s stomach, pinning him to the pillar. Wincing at the pain in his wounded shoulder Mordokai drew his sword back.
“DO IT!”
“End it, paladin!”
For a moment, everything froze. Mordokai was no longer staring at Dirk, instead he saw Mi’ir lying there, bleeding from the mortal wound Mordokai had dealt him. He remembered Mi’ir’s spiteful laugh.
“You can’t do it…can you? You have me at your mercy…defeated…but you can’t kill me…” Mi’ir laughed weakly, “That…that’s why you won’t win…you’re just…too…good. You would have to become like me to win in the end…and you won’t pay that price…”
He’d paid that price, paid it willingly.
…and what has it brought you? A voice whispered. Pain? Despair?
No. It had brought him power, revenge…
…at what cost?
Mordokai remembered one more thing, one more detail from that day, four years ago…
“End it, paladin!” It was almost as if Mi’ir was pleading, as if even beneath that smugness he wanted to die.
Mi’ir had sought death, and it had wrought four years of chaos. Now, as he stared into Dirk’s eyes, the poison contained within staring back at him, he could see what was happening. Dirk’s death would only bring more chaos, tip the Balance further in the favor of the Dark Moon, just as Mi’ir’s had. Just as the Dead Queen’s had. They had snared him in the exact same trap as they had four years ago. Either he died at Dirk’s hands and thus a powerful enemy was dead, or Dirk was killed and the power vacuum would create more chaos, tipping the Balance further.
…now you understand… the voice faded from Mordokai’s mind. Into the absence it left behind, guilt flooded. Four years, four years of dancing to the strings of the Dark Moon, no longer dancing unknowingly, but dancing willingly.
He could hear Mi’ir’s mocking laughter ringing in his ears.
--
Ep 20-Breaking
“No.”
“What?” Dirk spat.
“I will no longer be your fool.” Mordokai lowered his sword. “I am done, you are defeated. I will not be a fool to your games, Dark Moon.” He stepped backwards. “I will not kill you.”
“You are a fool!” Dirk spat caustically, “We will hunt you wherever you go! You will never be safe!”
“I’ve defeated you once. I will do so again.” It was over, he was done. Every death he’d dealt the Order of the Dark Moon had only created more chaos. He was done dancing to their tune.
A battered and bloodied Serpentine appeared in the doorway. “Mordokai!”
Mordokai turned his head, legitimately glad to see the young woman. A smile that Serpentine hadn’t seen in many years crossed Mordokai’s features, a smile that said plain as day that Mordokai had made a turn, that he was coming back. But any joy Serpentine had at seeing Mordokai this way soon dissolved away as she watched Dirk rise up behind him.
“Mordokai!”
Mordokai turned, knife in the air, but not quickly enough. Dirk’s sword pierced Mordokai’s stomach. But Dirk’s triumph was short lived, Mordokai drove Mi’ir’s knife into the side of Dirk’s throat. Dirk’s eyes never lost their venom, their hate, even as they lost all light, all life, and he fell to the ground, dead.
“Mordokai!” Serpentine limped forward as fast as she could manage as Mordokai fell to the ground. By the time she reached him his breathing had become shallow, his skin was losing color. He lay in a pool of thick, nearly black blood.
“No longer theirs…” he whispered, “I’m no longer theirs…”
Frantically Serpentine tore at Mordokai’s clothes, trying to expose the wound. If she had enough strength left, enough power…
…no use. She could see the wound now: deep, angry, thick blood flowed freely. It was beyond her ability, even if she were at full strength. “I can’t…I can’t save you…”
Mordokai only smiled. “No longer theirs…”
Those last words escaped Mordokai’s bloodied lips, and he breathed his last.
--
Ep 21 - Choice
“Been a long time, handsome.”
Mordokai’s eyes fluttered open. That voice…was familiar. He’d expected pain, blood, but he found none. He glanced around, expecting to see the stones of the Dead Queen’s keep, but saw nothing.
“Over here, paladin.”
Only one person ever called him that. Oh Helena, I’m in hell… Mordokai pushed himself up, onto his feet, and turned around.
Mi’ir DeCallo stood behind him, just as Mordokai remembered him: fair, almost feminine features, long dark hair, and that smug smile… “Still as handsome as ever.”
“This…this isn’t possible. Your soul was destroyed when you died…” Mordokai said, unbelieving.
“I don’t make the rules, paladin,” Mi’ir shrugged
“Oblivion not to your liking?” Mordokai asked.
Mi’ir sighed sadly, a sound that Mordokai had never actually heard before. “Oblivion would’ve suited me just fine, paladin, but someone else got to me first.”
Mordokai’s eyebrow raised. “Oh?” He looked down, not wanting to meet the bard’s eyes. There was something in them, something he’d never seen before, made him uneasy.
“Made me an offer. It’s why I’m here, paladin…” Mordokai looked up, met Mi’ir’s eyes. “You’re dead. I could show you, if you like.”
Mordokai shook his head, there was no need to see it. “No. I’ve reaped what I’ve sown. It’s a fitting end.”
Mi’ir walked forward, setting a hand on Mordokai’s shoulder. “And that’s why I’m here. It doesn’t have to end, not quite.”
“Out with it, Mi’ir.”
Mi’ir turned his back to Mordokai. “You get a choice, just like I did.”
“A choice?”
“You can choose to live. A chance to redeem yourself fully.”
Mordokai snorted. “I don’t deserve that.”
“That’s the other choice,” Mi’ir looked down, “Me.”
“You’re Death now?” Mordokai chuckled despite himself. “Excuse me if an eternity with you isn’t much of a choice.”
“I’m more like an agent.” Mi’ir smiled slightly, “Your past mistake offering you a chance to right the wrongs.” He brushed a lock of hair from his face. “But I appreciate the…undertones.”
“What happens if I choose to go back?”
Mi’ir shook his head. “Service. Fixing the wrongs that stemmed from your mistakes.”
“Going with you?”
“Judgment. You go before Her, right now, as you are. Maybe you’ve done enough, maybe not.” Mi’ir paused, “You’ve got all the time you need. Paladin…”
“Yes?”
“I think you should go back.”
“Mi’ir DeCallo, growing a heart? A conscience?”
Mi’ir paused again. “When you have to face…I…Just make your choice.” he said shortly, “I imagine it can’t be easy…”
“No…no it’s not” Mordokai said smugly. Judgment or service. He deserved to be judged, to pay for everything he’d caused, but a chance to maybe right it all…Thoughts swirled in his head. He had no idea how much time passed. “Mi’ir?”
Mi’ir smiled knowingly, “Goodbye…Mordokai.”
Back in the physical, Mordokai drew a sudden surprised breath.
--
Epilogue
Her tale finished, the elderly mage smiled and stood up, stretching her back. She wasn‘t that old, really, she just liked making a show of it. One of the benefits of age. “And that’s all there is to tell, I’m afraid.”
The crowd she had gathered with her story: children, acolytes and initiates of the Heraldic Order, Justicars, Hospitaliers, and, of course, Redeemers still stared in attention. The tale of Paladin Mordokai’s fall and redemption always did gather a crowd. A life worthy of bardic tales, she thought sardonically. A child stood up. The mage smiled, it was always the children that asked, even in the stories. “What happened to Paladin Mordokai?”
Hearing Mordokai’s name said with the honorific that he had once been stripped from him brought another smile to the mage’s face. “History essentially lost track of him after his battle with Dirk. None of his things were recovered from the keep and he never returned to the Order. He just…disappeared. Some people say that he went beyond the frontier and lived out the rest of his days in peace, beyond the reach of the Dark Moon and it’s machinations. Others say that agents of the Dark Moon caught him and killed him shortly after, no one really knows.”
A paladin from the back of the Great Hall spoke up, the mage could barely make out his features. “What about you? What do you think, Lady Serpentine?”
Serpentine focused on the source of the voice. With his blonde hair he was hard to miss in the crowd. “I don’t know for sure. But there are people out there, mystics and warriors alike, that seem to exist outside the Balance. I think that, maybe, he became one of them.” A chuckle spread through the crowd. “Oh, I see, everyone laugh at the senile old woman.” She shared in the laugh, “Go on, I’m sure you’ve all got duties to attend to!”
The crowd dispersed slowly, everyone except the blonde-haired paladin. “It’s been some time, Serpentine.” He said with a smile on his face, “You still look like you did fifty years ago.”
“Why do you always say that? Just because you only age a year for every twenty… It never actually makes any sense, you know. You, on the other hand, still look like that storybook knight.” Serpentine took the paladin by the hand and held it tight. “It’s good to see you again, Mordokai.”
“It’s more like a year for every fifty.” Mordokai chuckled. “Koorli sends her regards.”
“Of course, of course. What brings you out here this time? More trouble out in the provinces?”
Mordokai turned a tad somber. “No, nothing so serious. Serpentine…my contract is up. I’m going to be leaving. Permanently.”
Serpentine let out a sad sigh. She’d known this day was coming. Mordokai didn’t have the same type of agreement those like Koorli or the other Sages had. His was a contract of redemption, not vigilance, and his time was nearly up. “How much longer?”
“She’s given me until sunrise tomorrow. Then…”
Serpentine knew exactly what would happen next. Mordokai’s soul would leave this world to face final judgment at sunrise. “Judgment. Worried?”
Mordokai’s somber expression turned into a small smile. That matter-of-fact smile that he always had when he was about to say something that, to him, was the simplest thing in the world. “Actually…no. I’ve done what I can, everything else is up to Her.”
Serpentine gave his hand another squeeze. “Care to watch the sun rise with an old friend?”
“I’d love to.”
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